And I Think They Got Most of the Spoons
by EggSalad
Summary: Jonathan and Rick expel some unwanted guests.


And I Think They Got Most of the Spoons  
By EggSalad  
  
Disclaimer: You know the drill. The only characters I own here are several coppers, Billy, and a plethora of inebriated house guests. I'm making no money from this.  
  
Author's Note: Many thanks to all the wonderful people who reviewed my previous two stories. Thanks also go to my wonderful beta, without whom this story would not have happened.  
Enjoy!

* * *

Rick strolled down the stairs on his way to the kitchen, intent upon a midnight snack. Thumping noises from the kitchen made him slow and change his path slightly to take him past a bookshelf, where he produced a gun from behind a dusty book. A quick grab inside a flower pot yielded cartridges which he loaded as he carefully inched his way to the source of the noise. The door was easily kicked open to reveal -  
  
"Who - You! What are you doing here?!" Rick glared daggers at the quaking intruder. Disgusted, he clicked the safety on and placed the gun on a counter.  
  
"What are you talking about? I live here!" Jonathan clutched at his chest and shakily knelt to pick up his dropped sandwich.  
  
Rick sputtered. "No, you don't!"  
  
"Do too!"  
  
"Do -" Rick stopped mid-sentence and twitched. "Jonathan!"  
  
"What?" Jonathan said around a mouthful of sandwich.  
  
"Why are you in my kitchen?"  
  
"Well, I - I was forced to find an alternative abode for the night."  
  
"Great. What did you do?" Rick jabbed an accusing finger at his disreputable brother-in-law.  
  
"Nothing! I merely invited a lady friend of mine over to ... to tea! To have tea!"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Yes, and it, ah, it turned out that she had mentioned my address to a few of her friends, and they decided to join us. For tea."  
  
"For tea."  
  
"Yes. Tea."  
  
"So how did you get here?"  
  
"I called a cab."  
  
"That's not what I meant."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Jonathan!"  
  
"Some of the friends were male."  
  
"Some of them?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And they came for tea."  
  
"Mostly, yes."  
  
"Mostly?"  
  
" ... And the tea cups. And the china. And I think they got most of the spoons."  
  
"Are they still there?"  
  
"I wouldn't know; I'm here." Jonathan fidgeted and began to make himself another sandwich.  
  
"Why didn't you tell them to leave?"  
  
"There were rather a lot of them, you see, so I thought it prudent to bid them good night and take my leave."  
  
"Take your leave?"  
  
"Through the upstairs window."  
  
"You couldn't go through the front door?"  
  
"Ah ..."  
  
"I don't want to know, do I," Rick growled.  
  
"No, probably not," Jonathan agreed, then looked hopefully at Rick.  
  
"Jonathan. If you ask what I think you're about to ask, I'm going to hurt you."  
  
There was a pause as Jonathan struggled to keep his mouth shut.  
  
"Just for the night, old boy, I could -"  
  
"Jonathan! No! No, no, no, no, no!"  
  
"I'll be gone before morning ..."  
  
"It is morning!"  
  
"Before first light, then."  
  
"No! This is one time too many, Jonathan! You march out that door, and you reclaim your house!"  
  
Long pause.  
  
"Rick, come on, old chap, we're pals, there's no need to send me to my bloody DEATH!"  
  
"Out!" Rick grabbed Jonathan's shirt front and began to pull him towards the front door.  
  
"What will Evy think? What about Alex? Alex will hate you forever if you send his favorite uncle out to be killed," Jonathan said desperately, digging his heels in.  
  
"But we're the only ones who will know what really happened tonight. You'll be dead and I'll never tell anyone."  
  
Rick reached the front door and opened it wide.  
  
"All right, fine! Bloody hell! Away I go!" Jonathan threw his hands up in defeat and trudged down the steps.  
  
"Good for you," Rick told him, and began to close the door.  
  
"Wait ... O'Connell ..."  
  
"What is it now?"  
  
"Would you - I don't suppose you could -"  
  
"No."  
  
"You don't even have to come in! Just - just be back up. You know, moral support."  
  
Rick clenched his hands into fists and groaned, then sighed. He looked suddenly resigned.  
  
"Fine. Fine! Yes, Jonathan, I will go to your house and help expel your unwanted guests in the middle of the night because you're too afraid to do it yourself."  
  
"Good man! Go call a cab, will you?"  
  
"Jonathan!"  
  
"Right, I'll just call a cab, then."  
  
Jonathan waited until they were safely in the cab before attempting to talk again.  
  
"Do you -"  
  
"Don't talk to me."

* * *

"Here we are. Let's just step into the bushes, here ..."  
  
"The bushes?"  
  
"Shhhhh." Jonathan vanished into said bushes.  
  
Rick gaped. "What the h-" A hand snaked out of the bushes and pulled Rick down into them. "Jonathan, your street is so loud I doubt anyone would hear us even if we yelled. And - Jonathan! That's your house!"  
  
Jonathan looked confused. "Yes ... And?"  
  
"All this noise ... It's coming from YOUR house! How many people are in there?"  
  
"Quite a few, actually. I myself was rather surprised when they all managed to squeeze into the upstairs bath."  
  
Rick looked sideways at Jonathan, then shook his head. Wiser not to ask.  
  
"So, my lad, what's the plan?"  
  
"You walk up to the front door, open it, and tell everyone to get out."  
  
"Right." Jonathan got up, took two steps, then stopped. "And where, pray tell, will you be?"  
  
"I'm your moral support, remember?"  
  
"Yes, I remember. Can't you morally support me by the door?"  
  
Rick sighed again. "After you."  
  
In a move reminiscent of Rick's dramatic entrance to the kitchen not long before, Jonathan put his shoulder into it and banged the door.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
"Move over, I'll do it." Rick turned the door knob, pushed, and backed out of view.  
  
"Uh, excuse me!" Jonathan shouted into the din. "Hello! Can anyone hear me?"  
  
A brunette in a sparkly purple dress was the first to notice them. Her rather drunken shriek quickly alerted the rest of Jonathan's unwanted guests.  
  
"What's this, now?" A burly man moved forward. "I thought you scarpered out of 'ere."  
  
Jonathan gulped, and glanced frantically over his shoulder. Rick rolled his eyes, but stepped into the doorway beside Jonathan.  
  
"Get out of my house," Jonathan ordered, much emboldened by Rick's reassuring presence at his back.  
  
"Or what? There's lots of me -"  
  
"Yes, yes, and only two of us, we know that one."  
  
"Then -"  
  
"Biiiilly!" shrilled a young lady from the upstairs landing. "'Ave some tea!" She proceeded to huck a tea cup off the balcony. Jonathan gaped as the cup sailed through the air, scalding tea spinning out of it and landing on anyone unfortunate enough to be beneath.  
  
There was a hollow thunk as the tea cup struck the threatening burly man in the head. A high-pitched cackle could be heard from upstairs as his massive bulk slammed into the floor.  
  
"My tea cup!" Jonathan wailed.  
  
"You mean they really did come over for tea?" Rick said incredulously.  
  
"You, there! Yes, you! Did you just throw that tea cup?" Jonathan called upwards, squinting.  
  
"Why? D'you want some?"  
  
"NO! No! No, please - ARGH!"  
  
Jonathan and Rick were forced to dodge further into the house as a sudden barrage of tea cups sailed over the balcony.  
  
The soused young lady cackled again.  
  
Rick gingerly raised his head over the back of the sofa. "Uh, Miss? Could you get do -"  
  
A blaring siren interrupted him. A pasty young man jerked upright, dropping his bottle.  
  
"AIR RAID!" he screamed.  
  
"Turn off the lights!" The tea cup lady leaned over the balcony railing, pointing wildly at the light bulb overhead.  
  
Someone in the crowd produced a pistol, and did a very admirable job of shooting out the lights.  
  
"Damn." Rick said from somewhere within the semi-darkness. The sirens drew closer.  
  
"What now?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"Now we get them out of your house." Rick stood up cautiously.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Think of something," Rick replied, beginning to make his way toward the door.  
  
Jonathan hid in a corner, took a deep breath, and screamed. "GAS! THEY'RE GASSING US!"  
  
There was a stampede for the door.  
  
By the time Jonathan found Rick and peeled him off the floor, everyone else was outside, milling about the front yard. Jonathan helped Rick to the front steps and they both sat down.  
  
"Never again," Rick swore vehemently, nursing a bloody nose. "The next time I find you in my house after midnight, I'll shoot first and ask questions later."  
  
A police car, sirens wailing, skidded around the corner and stopped in front of the house. Several coppers got out and swaggered onto the lawn.  
  
"What's going on 'ere!"  
  
A policeman marched up to the house and frowned at Rick and Jonathan. "We've got numerous complaints about a wild party at this address," he said, and peered around them into the building. "I say! Is he dead?"  
  
"What?" Jonathan asked, startled. He twisted around to see the bobby poking the unconscious tea cup victim with his nightstick. "Him? Oh, no, no. It's a rather amusing story, actually -"  
  
A second policeman joined the first at the door, herding a stumbling crowd of Jonathan's guests towards them. "Blimey! Look at this mess - whose house is this?"  
  
There was a sudden mad scramble as everyone still sober enough to realize what was happening pointed at Jonathan - except for Jonathan, who pointed at Rick.  
  
END 


End file.
